Joke's On You
by McNineSpike
Summary: Joker and Ra's Al Ghul make a deal that could destroy the batfamily: Discontinued.


CHAPTER 1

Born From Darkness

Joke's on You

Ra's Al Ghul prepped his tea with just a tad bit more spice, he was preparing himself to plan his next _business _venture, all hope of creating a new green world weren't lost, and how could he lose his dream? After all these years, it merely sat on the back burner of his mind, but there, it did, sit. Brewing nicely, sweetly, with hope, till the time was right, till the earth was ready. And now, it was. He had all the seeds in place, for that's just what Ra's Al Ghul fancied himself, a gardener, nursing the bold ideas of a revolutionary. Tending the fruit of his shadows, his family, his future because although Al Ghul would live forever, he did feel…tired. And perhaps that was it, the vile something Al Ghul felt in the deep beyond parts of himself, for over this past years so much had been given to him, an heir, a second chance. However, Al Ghul couldn't shake the feeling, a feeling he'd only had one other time, long ago. A long ago pain he still nursed. Over these past months he'd grown weary, and therefore, seemingly depressed. Like the weight of all those dips into the NeverNever, the far beyond, the pit, had taken something from him over the years. Sure, the pit was…dark, but many powers, the strongest powers are dark in nature. In order to command such power one must step from the light, embrace his shadow, embrace the death become its friend, become its foe, command it, and show the great reapers of the next life that Al Ghul is boss. But these battles, as all, have their consequences, Ra's Al Ghul might have lost his heart long ago, but his soul still remains. It remains, and perhaps that is the point, the source of all this, this, emotion, weakness, not even his ginger tea can lift his mood.

MEANWHILE:

IN GOTHAM

"I don't understand why I can't go out on patrol with you. I just have a sprained wrist, I can use my sword with my other appendage, that is why I have two father." Damian huffs half dressed in his robin costume, pants and boots, but still remain half in a t-shirt proclaiming, _Superman forever,_ on the front in obnoxious yellow print. The t-shirt had been a gift from Grayson and in order to please the giant loving oaf he'd warn it that day upon his arrival into the Manner. But now the shirt was simply annoying both bats greatly.

"No Damian," Batman huffed in The Voice, that made criminals wet their pants, calling mommy, and the batkids glare back.

"But I don't understand, why does Timothy get to go with you? He is just as useless as I with two broken wrist, at least I can-"

"Enough," Batman pulled his cowl over his face and became all night, all those nightmares smashed together, he became the hero Gotham damn well needs, but sure as hell does not deserve.

"TT," Damian crossed his arms. "Fine, I'll run interference from the cave." He hopped into the giant computer chair with several different colored blinking dots on it, singling out all his batfamily members. Looks like batgirl and Nightwing were already on duty. Not that Nightwing new Batman had a tracker on him, but what Dick Grayson doesn't know wont hurt him, or Bruce for that matter. Damian looked up feeling a massive hand come down in a gentle pat on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, and if he did he could saver the consoling touch from his father, but such things, love and family, he knows are weaknesses, and it seems that now in days Batman has a lot of family and …and well, love. It is in these simple gestures, rarely, hardly ever in his words, but it is there, behind the cowl, behind the mask, Damian can feel it, and he knows Dick and even Tim can feel the change as well. It is if his trip beyond, his trip into death and back softened him, and in all those cliché ways made him see the value of life.

Damian feels all of this in his father's one loving touch and just as it begins, warmth inside his heart, because Damian does have one, deep beneath his assassin shield, it is gone being forced down by rational thought and the thought, command, that all this in time will end. Because love is just that, a weakness. Batman has a lot of weaknesses.

"Fine, but Alfred is going to assist," Batman says, taking a step back, letting the shadows cling to him. Pealing away he finds the shadows of the bat garage and climbs, Red Robin in toe Damian shoots him a glare, as if to say, don't get used to your spot, it is still mine. Tim just shrugs minutely and pulls his cowl over his head.

_Huff, Damian thinks, what a little want to be. _

He turns back to the blinking computer feverishly typing away on a screen. His message appears in the lenses of Nightwing's mask as he rides down the streets of Bludhaven on his motorbike.

_Father is taking the oaf, instead of me_

It is only a second before Nightwing responds, in his over protective of all his siblings, sort of way that just drives Damian up the walls. How could he not be Grayson's favorite? And why did it bother him so much? Sure, he did have a more profound bond with the eldest, okay, the only bond he had to this family, other than the blood of his father, was the Circus Bimbo with too much heart, but that's not the point. Point is, why does he care? Damian shouldn't, Dick is not a part of his blood line; therefore, a peasant, but a good kind hearted peasant. Nonetheless, his message was infuriating and heartfelt.

_Enjoy the night off. Maybe Alfred will give you the left over cookies, besides Red Robin and Batman are having a fairly uneventful evening just busting some druggies, don't worry little D, you'll get them next time _

_TT, _he types because, honestly, he can't think of a response. That is the thing with Grayson, he really kills you with kindness. And Damian feels pretty damn dead.

_Bludhaven? _

Damian questions, anything to keep this conversation going and distract him from the two dots currently moving quickly threw Crime Allie.

_Messy_

Is the simple reply he gets. Damian replies so fast he makes careless typos.

Ned hlp?

He can practically feel Grayson smiling threw the text message which makes him all the more grumpy.

_I don't know who Ned is, and I don't think he needs help? But if you think so…Send me his address._

Damian rolls his eyes and his newest cat of the week, Nala, plants herself in his lap.

_Shut up Grayson. You know what I meant. _

The reply is quick.

_No thanks little D, besides if bats finds out I gave you the green light he'll have my very shapely ass on a stake and I'd like to keep that, good for balance y'know. Anyway, ttyl little D, eat a cookie for your favorite older brother. _

Damian bangs his head on the computer station, damn, why does everyone else get to have all the fun? He bets even Red Hood the outcast is on patrol in God knows where. Crossing his arms, he refuses to admit defeat, he can use his sword with his other hand if he damn well pleases. Besides, he'll just do a light run, that's all. Just a quick sweep and he'll be back in the cave for when his daddybats gets home. The only problem, Damian can think of is, getting passed Pennyworth. The old man is surprisingly spry for a man of his age. Getting up from the huge office chair Damian walks back toward the dressing room. He follows Nala as if harmlessly chasing the cat, like the little ten year old boy he supposed to be. Nala is a very smart cat and catches on quickly. The small grey tabby with green eyes weaves her way through the shadows of the cave and back, back, back, into the dressing rooms. The costume that still remains complete and will forever remain complete and untouched is the old Red Robin costume, Jason's costume. Behind the glass Batman keeps those memories, memories, too painful. But Damian is not considered with the past. Instead he focuses on his stealth.

So far, no Alfred, not even a sign of the older man. Just as Nala rounds the last corner, Damian spots a shadow lingering in the doorway, and he knows the jig is up. Dammit.

Alfred crosses his arms, face as stoical as usual. Face slightly drawn up, he huffs, "Master Damian may I ask what you are doing back here at such an hour?"

Damian clears his throat, giving himself time to think, "I was in pursuit of my tabby cat, Nala. She loves the cave." the boy scoops up the grey tabby, petting her head gently. The cat purrs as Alfred looks down at the boy, not believing for a second. Damian upon meeting the butler knew instantly he was no fool, and could not be fooled. He had the eyes, eyes, that can see through any pretense, lie, he can see threw it and is clever enough to thwart it. Long story short, Damian can swear dollars to assassins Alfred did not buy his excuse one bit.

"I see, and does Nala put on the Robin suit as well, go out and save Gotham after dark? Is she reckless enough to do this pending a serious injury?"

"A sprain is hardly serious Alfred. Father is just being paranoid."

"Well, let's let him." Alfred says, looking down at where Damian is still wearing the robin pants and boots. Alfred pats the young assassin on the back, "How about you change into some PJ's and I'll let you have the last cookie." The older man smiles stepping away from wear his Robin costume hung have completed under it's glass case.

Damian huffs, there are just some arguments you know you'll never win. He cuts his losses and just as Alfred leaves, no doubt to guard the only way out; he takes off the robin pants, and he replaces them with dinosaur PJ's, also a gift from Grayson.

MEANWHILE

Ra's Al Ghul really can't help the feeling inside. Something dark is coming, something blacker than shadow, colder than night, as endless and defiant as a starless sky. These premonitions only rocked him this way once before, a before time, he refuses to think about. A time when the old man, ancient leader, might have just lost his soul, only to have it pulled back out of the pit as he repented for his mistakes, his sins. Never would he wish a child harm, never would he make war with the Dark Knight again, but here he was. Sitting in his grand study, the dim lighting provides just enough light to plan, but not too much light as to scare darkness away, a pen in hand, and he scratches away, planning to do just that. Not just him…but his family, the League, they all have to go, he'd make a race of brand new protectors, not bound my morals or ambiguous values, but built in Al Ghul's name. Protectors, they'd atone his every sin and in addition make his ultimate dream of a Green Planet a reality.

He'll need help…of course…what good is one singular shadow when all together they can become complete darkness.

As if an answer to his dark hopes, the past comes crashing through the door. Bringing with him, all the chaos, and burning desire of a mad man. Glass shatters at his feet. He never fails to make an entrance, as he walks to the desk of the planner glass crunches under his feet, like all the hearts he's broken. Stepping through the fiery mess he truly looks mad, a wide scarred grin ascending his features. Al Ghul used to be impressed with the Joker, he got his work done, he climbed the Crime latter, and he holds his own against the Batman, but then he saw the other side. The crazy mad man, who takes, and takes, and takes, till his heart is full of hate and there is blood on his hands. Now, in his old age, he finds the Joker, is truly what darkness is. It found a host in the mad man, and he feeds it. And that is Ra's Al Ghul's greatest fear.

He speaks, and his voice is just the same as Al Ghul hears in his nightmares. "Why, he-hel-hell-hello Mr. Demon Head, long time and a few resurrections later…nice to see you."

"Clown." Al Ghul says, feeling the cold in his soul like the icy fingers of the next life gripping him tight.

"Terrorist." Joker smiles, "Now that were past the name calling, I have a…hum…a favor." He shrugs as if asking to borrow a villainous cup of sugar.

"Why do you think I owe you a favor, mad man? Unlike Batman I will not hesitate to rid you from this universe and send you to where you belong." Al Ghul says from behind his desk, he tries to hide the slight shake of his hands. He has a whole army, he trains assassins, but if you've lived as long as Al Ghul you've seen the difference between an occupation and a hobby.

"I'll save you a spot under a shady tree." He smiles, "Now, are you going to keep hurting my feelings or can I ask for what I need?"

"It is just something small," he says, pinching his thump and for finger together, as if to demonstrate that he only needs a little sugar.

Al Ghul grabs his remote from beneath his desk, "I press this button and my guards come running. They are trained to shoot on sight." Al Ghul finishes with his best glare. But, really, how much can you glare into night before it laughs back at you because that is just what Joker did.

Between his bouts of laughter he licks his scars. "Oh, oh, is that so….?" He says, "Well, M-M-Mr. Demon Head, let them come, but I think they're going to have some trouble…because…um…well because they are all tied up at the moment…HA," he wipes his brow, "I've been dying to use that joke…" he says in a deeper, darker voice that makes Al Ghul's hair stand on end. "I'll have to tell Harley that one, thanks Demon Head."

"But really," He takes a knife from his jacket and slams it into the oak desk. He looks up, "I really do have a time table, you see…" He shrugs taking the knife out and repeating the process yet again, "I'll a little short on cash…" he licks his lips, "bills, and Harley wants a new bazooka, you know the phrase, happy wife, happy life…well…that's true…" he laughs, sticking the knife between his teeth like a tooth pick.

"I'll give you the money," Al Ghul says between clenched teeth, "just leave," he finishes.

"Aw, that hurts." Joker says leaning forward on the desk. As if drawn by the same string, force, Al Ghul scoots back, till his head is flush against his head rest and Joker is still coming closer. His wide smile becoming fussy, he moves so close Al Ghul can only see his eyes and feel his breath.

"One thing my daddy did manage to teach me is this," he begins with a smile. As if lost in thought he twirls the knife in his fingers, "If you want something you have to work for it. So in order to get a few bills, I need a favor." He doesn't move and his eyes only grow wider, slightly crossed, "I know all about you and how close you are to a certain family…b-ba-bat family. I need all the names, from Batman to Batgirl, and I'm going to sell the names to the highest bidder…HA, genius yes? I know." He smiles, "And if you don't know all the names I'm sure you know someone who does. Perhaps your lovely daughter…?" he licks his lips, and becomes all predator, "and she is lovely."

Al Ghul takes a deep breath and wishes he had some space. This would speed up his plan to have each member of his royal family eliminated , but Al Ghul doesn't want Joker to be the one to do it. And technically he won't be, but when was the last time Joker kept his word. Last time he made a deal with this clown faced devil, an innocent child died. He couldn't go through that again, but…if Joker really did sell the names, Al Ghul could double cross him and trick him back into jail. Yes, yes, this would work. Two birds one stone, he smiles inwardly.

"Alright Joker, but you must kick up 5% of what you make to me…" The 5% would insure Joker really did sell the names.

"Sure, sure," he practically whines with excitement, "now tell me."

THREE MONTHS LATER:

Red Hood sits on the rooftops of Bludhaven questioning why exactly he's in his older brother's city. He didn't want to be here, but he did. It is weird, a part of him missed the family; however, a part of him despised the very night Bruce found him. For such a sunny guy Dick picked one hell of a…well…hell whole to settle down in, this place is almost worse than Gotham, almost. Now he sits on top of Bludhaven to make up with Dick yet again. Jason isn't sure what's worse the fact that he keeps coming back or the fact Dick keeps taking him back. Broken and bloody same old story every time, he'd gotten into a fight with Kori and Roy and just up and left. Couldn't deal didn't want to. On his way he ran into none other than deathstroke, who apparently among other assassins as a hit out on him. He's not even sure who he pissed off this time. Under the Hood he grimaces as he holds his stomach in, bullet wounds never seem to hurt any less every time he gets shot. It took him the strength of God just to climb this building without crying out, and apparently, God is really strong.

He here's a soft touch down behind him and turns. Etched out in moonlight the red symbol across his chest his older brother lands, making only wind and soundless energy dance around him, dammit, he's graceful. Jason thinks, reminding himself that this is a time to be nice to big brother, not jealous of big brother.

Dick turns, sensing a presence, he knows that shadow. Hunched over holding his guts in, Jason sits looking at him with a wry smile on his face, Nightwing huffs. Dick crosses his arms. Just waiting to here the _I'm sorry,_ that will set the wheels back in motion and drag his bleeding heart in. Jason knows how to push his buttons, and sad thing is, sometimes, Dick doesn't mind. Jason is a broken bird, he won't ever fly again, but Dick, Dick can pretend.

"Red Hood," he nods in mock casualness.

"Nightwing," Red chokes out which is really worrying Dick because Jason hardly ever calls Dick by his costume name, either he must think that they're being watched, or he's just that out of it. Dick can tell he is in bad shape, he needs help, trick is, what can Dick say to offer it but not upset the bluebird's ego.

"You look like royal dog shit." he settles for that, always go with the insult, makes Jason feel, at home, in control.

"I feel like royal dog shit….offer a hand?" he quirks a brow which hardens the otherwise soft reply.

"Only if you promise not to get any bodily fluids on my couch, come on in." Helping Jason to his feet turns out to be more of a difficult task than Nightwing expects.

Once in side his apartment, Dick flips on a few lights and closes the window. He can't remember the last time he used the door, whatever, windows are more fun, he thinks. Jason's heavy, dragging, Dick does a quick assessment. Gunshot wounds to the stomach and shoulder, a few cuts and bruises, and one black eye, most everything else is a defensive wound where Jay got caught giving it back to his assailant. Turning on his heal, he finds his way, Jason dragging in toe to the kitchen. Dick is pulling off his Nightwing costume as he marches threw his apartment, Jason forever in toe.

They arrive in Dick small bed room and bathroom and Jay feels relief wash over him. He didn't think he could take another step, as each step feels like led in his feet. Dick is in his boxers and as Jason parks himself on the closed lid of the toilet seat, Dick reappears. This time he is dressed in some low riding sweatpants and a superman sweatshirt. Rolling up his sleeves, he helps Jason out of his shirt and assesses the damage further. The wounds seem to be shallow and horizontal, like a sword. A lump forms in his chest. Dammit, Deathstroke, he sneers.

Jays senses Dick's mood change, it comes when his older brother examines his wounds, Jay can only assume he is putting two and two together.

"Why didn't you call me?" And that's more like it, this quiet sulking is starting to creep Jason out. And Jason can only atone that the reason for Dick's quietness was because upon landing on the roof top, he seemed deep in thought as well.

"I don't need you to babysit me. I'm not Damian." Is all Jay says between clenched teeth.

Dick is quiet for a minute filling the sink with hot water and disinfecting soaps.

"I know that but, Deathstroke, he is my problem." Dick says.

"Yeah, and Joker is mine,"

Dick looks up, shooting a blue eyed glare, only confirming his worries, "it's gotten really bad Jay." Dick looks down at Jason's chest in ruins, "He is threatening to reveal our secret IDs…Joker is all of our problems…" Dick finishes. He turns, tucking dark hair behind his ears, "You can borrow some of my clothes, I think you should take a shower." He says.

Jason grabs his blood stained t-shirt and gets up from the toilet seat. "I'm not staying…" he mumbles.

"That son of a bitch has messed with us for too long…it's time to send him home…" Jason sneers.

And that's just it, Dick can't handle hiding the truth, not from Jay. He needs to know, deserves to know. Dick gets up standing in his younger brothers way.

"You can't go after him…" he says grabbing Jason's arm.

"Why?" Jay spits back.

"Because he has Damian."

A/N So this is chapter one, I know it might be kind of confusing but don't worry the time jump will make sense later on! As the next chapter deals with how Damian got kidnapped. As for timeline and continuity stuff…hum…I don't really know where this could take place on the timeline? Sometime in the new 52?

And continuity…? New 52

and I'm not really sure Ra's Al Ghul knows who the batfamily is, but if some one does I'm pretty sure It'd be him…because of Damian and all that, so if he doesn't pretend he does!

Basically Ra's Al Ghul wants to make a new Justice League, kind of like a huge League of assassins. And Joker is just being Joker, a long for the ride. This story will take place over a matter of years and I'm warning you now THERE WILL BE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. But perhaps not who you think…? Okay, that's the only hint I'm giving. THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING! And please review just drop me a dime letting me know you're along for the ride, so I don't write this story and no one reads it! J

In addition, a Batfamily Vacation update is coming soon, if you're reading that as well, I'm half way done. It's kind of weird, it takes me a while to think of fluff, but I can spit this plot driven stuff out like it's my job! And THANKS SOOOOOOO MUCH! FOR ALL THE REVIEWS I'VE GOTTEN FOR THAT STORY, IT MAKES ME SOOOO HAPPY! And that's also why it takes me a while, I want to put something out that is funny and good and cute! And not just a repeat of what I did last chapter.

McNineSpike

LLR and keep it real bat brats!


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